


Deep Cover

by ChokolatteJedi



Series: Undercover Verse [1]
Category: Chuck (TV), White Collar
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Prison, Time Skips, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bryce walked away from the Buy More, he had no idea he was about to wind up in prison. A Bryce is Neal fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Cover

"So, how's the weather in Naples this time of year?"

Bryce turned around and found a short, bald man in a waiter's outfit. He was holding a tray of champagne glasses and Bryce took one, though he didn't sip. "Unseasonably warm," he replied.

"That's a shame," the waiter replied. "The Canaries are nice, though. This time of year."

"When are the Canaries not nice?" Bryce replied with a chuckle.

They parted ways and Bryce continued to mingle with the other consulate guests. He eventually disposed of his drink on a side table and then slipped away to the North Wing gallery.

Five minutes later he was joined by the waiter, and together they stared at the painting on the wall.

"Nice brushwork," Bryce finally commented. Not that he knew anything about art, but it was something to say now that the specified code phrases had been traded.

"Not really," his companion replied. "Call me M."

"A single initial name. How MI-6." Bryce replied. He was really starting to miss Chuck now. It would be nice to have a flash - or lack thereof - to confirm who he was talking to.

M shrugged. "The moniker is temporary."

Bryce smirked. "They usually are. So, let's cut the small talk."

"A straight shooter. I like it."

“What else do you like?” Bryce asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, conmen. Art forgers, grifters, cat burglars, rebels with a cause.”

“Those are all a little out of my area of expertise.”

“Then you’d better study up,” M replied. There was a hint of laughter in his voice, and Bryce was afraid of what that laughter boded for himself.

“What’s first?”

“First, you’re about to make a crucial mistake, all in the name of love,” M said. “Then, you’re going to get thrown straight into prison.”

“Prison?” Bryce bit out. Once again he desperately wished for Chuck - he suspected that he had made a large mistake trusting this M.

“Don’t worry young padawan, all will be explained in good time,” M replied soothingly. “In the meantime, go the library and catch up on some reading.”

“The library, eh?” Bryce asked. His instincts were still screaming at him to fight or run, but he held steady. Whatever team this man worked on, Bryce would hear him out. He always worked better with more information, not less.

“Art history section,” M replied. “I find it full of lovely women.”

Bryce smirked. “Women, eh?”

M smirked back. “Oh yeah.”

oOo

Bryce returned to his innocuous, dingy motel room and immediately jumped on google. There were three libraries close to the consulate, and one was almost directly between there and his hotel. Tracing the straight line with his finger, Bryce tapped the library. First thing tomorrow he would check it out.

oOo

Bryce carefully scoped the library, but it was nearly deserted this early on a Monday. The younger patrons were still in school, and only a handful of elderly people and college-aged people dotted the building.

The art history section was on the third floor, in the back, and there was a cozy study nook for three in the corner. Sitting in the nook were two beautiful young brunette women. _Full of lovely women_ , indeed.

Bryce studied the girls: his probable contacts. The first appeared to be a college student, dressed comfortably, and surrounded by books and binders. The second looked slightly older, but she still wouldn’t be out of place on a campus. Her clothes were a little more trendy, like she was the kind to go to clubs on the weekends. They appeared to be studying hard, but there was a slight tensing in number one’s shoulders when Bryce peered through the stacks. The other paused, mid page-turn, before catching herself. They were both aware enough of their surroundings to sense his surveillance. Definitely his contacts.

He stepped into their line of sight, and the first immediately looked up. A wide smile broke out on her face. "Hey! So glad you could make it, sweetie! You remember Alex, of course. I told her she could study with is."

Bryce smiled back. "Absolutely! The more the merrier!"

He took the seat beside his ‘sweetie’, and she nudged a huge binder at him. The thing was easily five inches thick and packed full. Taking the hint, he flipped it open. The first tab was labeled "Neal Caffrey" and as Bryce flipped through he discovered a dossier on Caffrey. There was also a clear pocket protector with a passport and New York driver's license, both with his photo on them. Clearly this was his new alias.

There were more tabbed sections of varying thicknesses, labeled "Nick Halden," "Steve Tabernackle," and "George Donnelly." A quick glance showed that they were aliases of Neal Caffrey, so for now he ignored them.

As Bryce studied the binder, he tried to get into the head of this Neal Caffrey, white collar criminal. There was an incredible amount of backstopping, and Bryce wondered briefly if this person had actually existed at one point. Or perhaps the CIA was just very thorough.

Bryce had always excelled at studying, as his ability to speak both Klingon and Tolkein Elvish could attest. As the morning slipped away, he found himself sinking into the world of Neal Caffrey. He began to set up files in his brain around the world and language of Neal and the white collar crime world.

He found himself cataloging crimes, picturing how they were committed. The distant, Bryce part of himself wondered if the CIA had actually arranged for the committing of these crimes, but the growing Neal part of his mind just imagined the rush of pulling off a heist right under the nose of the Royal Navy.

He finally flipped a page and found a picture of the girl beside him. She was labeled "Kate Moreau," and according to the dossier she was Neal's girlfriend. Or Nick's girlfriend. That was a little unclear in her backstory. He glanced over at her. "Kate" was studying as well; a book of Renaissance painters.

Kate always liked the classics.

His brain supplied the thought automatically, having just read it in her dossier.

The next page was also enlightening, as it showed his other companion, “Alex.” She was an ex-girlfriend, partner, and fence. If this had all been real, Bryce would have been extremely amused at the idea of a man sitting around with both his current and ex-girlfriends at the same time without threats of death being leveled at at least one party. Of course, he considered, Neal Caffrey was also exactly the kind of man to be able to pull that off.

"So, I totally left my syllabus at home; when is this test?" he asked conversationally, keeping to the light tone of their cover.

"Kate" looked up from her own text, and Bryce could see a flash of papers hidden inside the book. "T minus twenty one hours," she replied cheerfully.

Bryce barely refrained from gaping. Twenty one hours? To absorb an entire life and slip into a character who was by all accounts an expert in the fields Bryce had found most boring in high school? Twenty one hours?

On the one hand, he had been sent on missions with less notice, but those were the kinds of things that required a basic alias, not a life-time of knowledge that had to stand up to the intense scrutiny of government agencies and a trial.

"Don't worry," "Kate" - and he should probably stop using the mental quote fingers around her name now - Kate reassured him as she tucked her legs beneath herself and shifted to look directly at him. "You'll get a long vacation after this midterm."

It took Bryce a second, but he realized this was probably the jail time that had been referenced. "And during vacation?" he questioned. "Do we have plans?"

Kate snickered. "I will be on a totally different vacation," she assured him, "but you'll have plenty of time to study." At his questioning look, she nodded at the binder. "Final tab."

Well that was reassuring on one level, though absolutely not on the other hand. He wasn't looking forward to going to jail, but at least the idea of having more than a few hours to step into Neal's was a relief. Intrigued, Bryce flipped to the final tab, labeled, fittingly, as "Arrest and trial." After a few minutes of quiet reading, he couldn't help but burst out, "I get _four years_?"

Kate snickered again. "Don't worry, you'll be out sooner."

"Fantastic," Bryce rolled his eyes. "Tell that to Bane."

Kate froze. "Page 731," she said tightly.

Page 731 was a list of things that Neal Caffrey was not knowledgeable about. This section of the file had clearly been put together by someone who knew Bryce well, as the first bullet was in all caps and read simply 'ANYTHING GEEKY.'

Bryce was tempted to ask for clarification of that, but he was fairly certain of the answer. Star Trek, Star Wars, probably anything with "star" in the title. The vast majority of his high school and pre-CIA college cultural knowledge was off the table.

Weapons were another interesting one, though it did make sense to Bryce. If Neal avoided weapons, no one would have a chance to wonder at his extreme proficiency with them. Of course, he recalled from earlier in the dossier, his "father" being a cop could account for some basic knowledge if the situation arose.

They really were good at this alias thing. Come to think of it, he should probably start thinking of himself as Neal now, just as she was Kate. With a sigh of regret for all of the DnD-related jewel thief jokes he could have made, _Neal_ returned to his research.

oOo

"Thank you. I never would have found her without you." Neal said, following the script perfectly. Internally, his mind was calmly scrolling through the file on this Agent Burke. He had been chasing the ghost that was Neal Caffrey for three years, apparently. It was a shame, really, that he'd been chasing his own government's tail in all that time, but Neal couldn't keep thinking like that.

As Neal glanced back at Kate, he saw the sad, desperate look on her face. And, for half a second, he saw the amusement and approval flash through her lovely blue eyes - the secret emotions of the agent hidden within the small time forger.

They looked nothing alike - he suspected that Neal's type being brunettes was somehow a pointed reference - but for just a moment he thought saw Sara reflected in those blue eyes.

oOo

Neal's second night in prison, a friendly guard slipped him a small handheld computer with an earbud. As General Beckman had instructed him, he first tried to log in with the false code. It didn’t work, as expected, and he tapped it in again. If this was a Fulcrum test, the login should have worked the second time, as they learned his secret passcodes. However, the error message repeated, and Neal sighed in relief. Two failed attempts meant that this was a genuine CIA message, and that he could safely use the real password.

It went through, that the screen quickly lit up with Director Graham’s and General Beckman’s faces. “Caffrey, good to see you,” the General said.

“A pleasure as always,” Neal replied in his smooth way.

“Your instructions are on this computer, as well as the rest of the information you need to memorize for this mission. Assistant Warden Robert will be your contact. Kate will visit you occasionally. You won’t see Agent M until your release.” Her messages were clipped and she sounded vaguely annoyed, as always, but Neal was oddly reassured by the familiarity.

“And when will my release be?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

“M is working with our contact in the FBI, but his situation is tenuous,” Graham replied, to Neal’s surprise. “You’ll know when progress is made.”

With that somewhat ominous warning, Graham and Beckman disappeared from the screen. After a few minutes of button pushing, Neal found the appropriate menu and got down to the business of fully memorizing his life story.

oOo

The trial had gone about as expected, at least from Neal's perspective. He was supposed to be found guilty of at least some charges, and end up in prison with that four year - _four year!_ sentence. That was all according to plan.

Neal had also had the chance to see more of Agent Burke. His FBI file and the detailed notes of his pursuit of Neal were one thing, but seeing the man in court really gave Neal a chance to study him. The man was painfully fair, and Beckman and Graham were certain that we would take the bait on working with Neal. They believed him to be innocent of corruption, but knew that he, with Neal, would be perfectly positioned to expose any Fulcrum traitors in the New York Bureau branch.

More importantly, Neal saw a man who was compassionate, and kind, and not hardened as so many Agents were. He did his job, and he believed in the system, but more importantly he believed in justice.

Neal spent many nights in his cell musing on the relation that had been established between Neal and Burke. He had to play his cards carefully once joined with Burke, to properly manipulate the man. If Agent Burke saw through Neal to Bryce, the whole op would be ruined. He had to trust Neal enough to keep in out of jail and in the FBI, and moreover he needed to trust Neal enough to let him in deeper. Fulcrum couldn't be found with just a cursory job at the FBI or any agent could do it.

At the same time, Burke couldn’t trust Neal too much, or he – or more importantly, any Fulcrum infiltrators – might figure out the ruse. Neal had to be an untrustworthy thief, but of the loveable, trustworthy variety.

That thought often kept Neal awake, staring at the ceiling of his cell.

oOo

"So, it's been a year..." Neal said conversationally as soon as Beckman and Graham appeared on his pad.

They exchanged a glance that Neal knew didn't bode well for himself before finally Beckman replied. "There has been a small problem with your contact inside the FBI."

"What kind of small problem?" They probably wouldn't answer, but Bryce had spent a year in a jail cell waiting on them, and he wanted some answers.

They exchanged another glance before deciding to answer. "He was retired."

"As in…"

"In the bureaucratic sense, not the final sense," Graham said.

Well that was somewhat reassuring, but still… "So how am I getting in?" Neal asked.

"We're working on that."

oOo

"It's time," Bobby said the night of Kate's visit.

Neal had suspected that was the case, given her clear use of the break-up code, but at the same time it was a little hard to believe. After all, his 'few months' stint in jail had become an almost four year bid, and he was only weeks away from getting released.

The last year Neal had flirted with the question of what would happen if he was released. Would he have spent four years in jail for a failed, pointless, op? In fairness, they had pulled Bryce out occasionally to run other ops by placing Neal in solitary, but compared to what he could have been doing as a full agent it was a waste of four years.

On the other hand, living as Neal for the last four years… he almost wanted to just finish his sentence and get out a free man. Maybe even return to the con life he almost believed he had lived. Running at this point was totally anathema to Neal Caffrey.

"Neal, it's time." Bobby repeated.

Neal looked at his guard with a wry smile. "I've heard that before."

Bobby shrugged, and not for the first time Neal wondered if he was really a guard or also an Agent who had been derailed into this assignment for the last four years. "This time it really is time."

Neal sighed. "Alright, time to go."

The next morning, he stopped shaving.

oOo

"What's it worth if I tell you what this is? Is it worth a meeting?" Neal asked.

Inside, his mind was racing. Of course it would be Burke. Having the man find him so quickly was confirmation of everything Neal had believed about him. If he was willing to meet in a week, then he really was the perfect mark, and this op could finally continue.

oOo

A week later, as Burke left the meeting room and Bobby pulled out the transportation restraints, Neal did his best to look neutral. Inside, Bryce was smirking.

Finally.


End file.
